


The Descent

by swimming_in_hope



Category: BBC Holmes, Sherlock Holmes BBC
Genre: BBC Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Fanfic, Gen, Manipulation, Moriarty has a network, One-Shot, Please stick to the end, Reader is intelligent, Strong Language, You're an engineer, and an office :00, reader is somewhat creepy, some sexual themes, something happens at the end, trb, you're going crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimming_in_hope/pseuds/swimming_in_hope
Summary: Jim Moriarty was the epitome of a perfect, malicious murder.





	The Descent

**Author's Note:**

> It might get a bit confusing at some point in the middle but please stick till the ending, then all would be explained :0 
> 
> Kudos, reviews and opinions are very welcomed! 
> 
> If you have requests or ideas don't be afraid to to mention them in the comment section. Don't forget to enjoy!

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." You muttered in awe, your gloved fingers carefully tracing the rim of your hat as you watched in the silence. It had always been in your knowledge that Moriarty was, in some demented way, a genius. It was honestly one of the things that had initially drawn you to him.With him you felt so relieved, so free from restraint because goodness, it was incredibly frustrating to always have to constrict your capabilities-your wit- for the sake of the people around you. It suffocated you to be constantly surrounded by, forgive the lack of a better term, idiots.

Well, arguably you could say 'mentally challenged' but ..that would be too nice now would it?

You let out a small laugh at the thought.

You always wondered just how cynical you were capable of being. At times you'd think that by doing just that in general proved that you still had something to salvage from your "moral compass." However, in truth you never used to be like this, you weren't always so knee deep into cynics or the mentally deranged, you were even /normal/, so to say. But one taste of the most dangerous man in London had flickered something in you. The adrenaline, the rush-- the dark red that painted every wall in the city and every fingertip on your hand. Like a bloody canvas.

If one were to consider your present state, the liberation you felt being deliciously mad it would be reasonable to assume that maybe you were always cynical. That it had been in you all along--silently anticipating the moment where it could lash out and take it's share of control.

You would be doomed.

Or worse, damned, as far as your religious beliefs could go.

But in reality you didn't even need to wonder, you already knew and that was perfectly fine. Perfectly.

Nothing would stop you, not even the "Baker Street Boys"

There was another laugh, this one a tad bit more obnoxious. You chastised yourself, disapproving your own behavior. You had such a dry sense of painfully wicked humor.

 

Well ..nothing but Jim Moriarty.

 

You shook your head.

Opting to focus on more important things you avert your attention to the array of screens displayed before you, monitoring the man himself as he executed his plan with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Your job to make sure all things flowed perfectly took up only a small part of your time. Mainly, you were supposed to repair and fix high caliber gadgets. An engineer of sorts, one would call it. It was only when Moriarty had witnessed some glimpses your genius that he called you in for different, more complex things such as this.

And from that point on, followed by every moment after, you had reluctantly found yourself chasing him around like a little puppy.

Although love sick puppy or not you've always made an effort to keep in mind that it was still necessary to be reserved and proper around the man.

You longed for him yes, however you weren't going to risk sabotaging your dignity because of an infatuation.

After all, you do find yourself often revolted with anything barbaric or sloppy, no matter the situation even if this included murder. If anyone knew better (like you think you do) they would agree that murder should at least be carefully planned,precise, smart and not just plain old ordinary butchering. A ruthless beauty.

And Jim Moriarty? The man was the epitome of a perfect, malicious murder.

Delicious.

You cleared your throat as you shooed the thought away, the ghost of a smile disappearing from your face. This was in turn replaced by a tentative bite on your lower lip.

Your infatuation proved to not be a secret.

It was actually that sole fact Moriarty was counting on, unknown to you of course. Having this advantage makes it considerably easier for him to bend you over to his will. Which is good, because people like you have actual functioning brains. It is always refreshing to have something useful laying about. The only downside was that it could, at times, get admittedly easy enough to bore him.

But today, today he was going to play around more. Today he was going to really see how your mind ticked. Oh yes, he knows you're smart but just how much really?

What was your process?

A fairly simple question.

But it's the answer that he's relying on to make things a tad bit more... interesting. So it was when Moriarty had properly finished business for the day that he contacted you and went full on his way back to the office.

\------------------------

The two wide doors opened with ease as Moriarty strolled in, hands in pockets and a pair bodyguards stationed outside. The doors closed with an audible sound of wood on wood and the quick 'click' of the lock.

Once sure the entrance was properly closed you nodded at the man, a polite smile on your face."Hello,sir." Jim's grin only widens in reply, his dull brown eyes filled with intent. You paused as your eyebrows furrowed, sensing something was a bit off.

The man was quick to take notice of your expression. Moriarty sings out your name in a teasing manner, tapping his chin and looking up as if he were thinking. Then with a smile he averts his gaze back down to you, eyes piercing your own with that same malicious intent. He continues, taking a few steps forward,

"I haven't said a thing and you could already tell that something's about to happen. On a normal occasion that would have expertly spoiled the surprise.. and my mood." Moriarty shrugs, a bittersweet blade carefully carving the tone of his words."..But since I AM a bit busy today that just saves me the time I was about to waste.." He proceeds to advance towards you, immediately stopping once you were only half a meter away. Jim's eyes meet yours, his voice dropping an octave as he praises,"Good girl." You gripped your hand behind your back as you struggle to contain an involuntary shiver. You could barely even think of what Moriarty would do next (with such close proximity between the two of you) but he walks away with a small smirk, the tension dissipating. You almost let out a sigh of relief but expertly held it in for your sake.

"Well.. your assumption isn't wrong." The dark haired man started, staring at you with an eerie smile, its warmth somehow growing colder the closer it got to his eyes.

The look haunted your mind with the thought that he might have figured out about how much of an effect he held on you. Moriarty leans against one of the small tables propped against the walls, a small vase sitting in it's center.

Moriarty absentmindedly pops gum in his mouth.

"So!" He begins suddenly, clasping his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. You sharpen your mind, preparing to answer this said question with your best efficiency, hoping to impress. "What's your opinion?" Moriarty blurts out gleefully, eager to hear your response.

You were left dumbfounded.

What on earth was he referring to?

You almost unceremoniously asked 'What?' but knew better than to make a fool of yourself in front of Jim Moriarty. The man had little patience with morons and undoubtedly, so did you. Which makes things decidedly worse because not only would you not be able to bear his presence (what with your embarrassment) but you wouldn't be able to bear yourself either. Throughly intimidated by this possibility you used the time to process the question.

Jim rolls his eyes,"My plan." He elaborates impatiently before successfully shifting his mood into a lighter one, as if to encourage you."Any opinions?.."

He stops for a moment before quickly adding: "...suggestions?" Moriarty made it seem more of a challenge than what it was supposed to be: a simple question. The man turned it into something of a riddle, after all he does love riddles--but his eyes, their steady gaze. Like a bomb teetering on the edge of an explosion, it was as if he was just daring you to outright disagree with him. On the contrary, you really couldn't see yourself doing that.

Not wasting anymore time you quickly get to it and began to explain your thoughts."At first I was confused."

"Confused?" He repeats, tilting his head, seeming somewhat hurt-- in a childish sort of way. "You were supposed to be smart." You nod your head dumbly at that and Moriarty resists the urge to roll his eyes.

 

You gather the courage to continue.

 

"Confused." You confirm and further fortify your answer with a quick nod. "You left excellent clues that would only seem, in my opinion, obvious to a man like Sherlock. It almost appears as if you were letting him down easy.He would be able to decipher that quicker than anyone.. And I thought why? Why should it be easy for him? Then, according to my observations, when you proceeded to hire a man that looks exactly like Sherlock to do the dirty work and kidnap the children I finally caught up." You allow yourself to quiet down, a thought growing in your head as if all things had just cleared up.

You look up at him, eyes wide with realization, trying to replicate what you had felt earlier."You're trying to create the image that he was making up his own cases like the actual psychopath they all expected him to turn out as. You're turning him into a fraud." Your eyes sparked with, dare you say it, inspiration.

How bloody twisted.

Nevertheless, you pushed on,"I admire how you were able to instill doubt in their heads--fears-- revolving around their personality and their mindset to just simply make them question and question and question /until/ Sherlock himself ends up just as equally frustrated and confused as they are."

Moriarty's impatience dissolved as he kept his hands in his pockets, a nonchalant expression plastered on his face, save for the little quirk at the edge his lips. He shifts and straightens his figure, indicating he was about to approach her--until--

"I'm in love with the way your mind works."

The feeling of ice cold regret shot through your veins, encasing your body, effectively holding you in place. Whether it was the blinding 'inspiration' or the infatuation that held your mouth open until you uttered complete stupidity it didn't matter because you had absolutely screwed the poodle over.

Your expression, which was once calculating and sparking with intelligence, was now of mortification and fear. When did you use such silly words such as 'love' and when did you ever use it on men like him? Though it wasn't the choice of words that really did you in, it was the manner of how it was said. The emotion, the affection pouring out generously from each fiber of the sentence.You cringed.

Moriarty on the other hand didn't seem bothered in the slightest,in fact one would say he looked rather amused; his mouth was shaped like a little 'o' and his eyebrows were raised like he had just unwrapped a Christmas present."Whoops. What a very interesting slip up." He teases.

Your eyes widen.

Moriarty chuckles."Oh no worries, it'll be our little secret." He winks. That wasn't the end of it though, he still resumes his teasing."Our little engineer can be as flattering as she is boring. Like a small kitten with claws. What a stark contrast, it makes you less.." His hand moves around, gesturing towards you as he thought of a word to suitably fit your description.

"..Ordinary." He finishes, eyeing you up as he chewed his gum, his aura relaxed.

You were appalled. Never in your life had you ever been so reckless, so unbelievably stupid. You had never imagined him learning about your petty little feelings because of a careless slip-up.

"You do hate ordinary." You respond, your smile weak as you felt your cold mask melting away with all the heat and embarrassment and pain on your face.

Until, similar to the brief flick of a switch, he snaps out of his daze and continues his approach, inching towards you. He smiles-- an actual, normal smile-- not a deadly and crazy tooth baring grin. Just a charming little smile. Jim, once in front of you, slowly lifts a hand and gently tucks a stray hair behind the lobe of your ear.

You're absolutely floored to the ground.

And the gesture hits you like a bus.

A bus with blaring white headlights and tires that loudly screeched in a plea to slow down-- but it didn't, it just kept going faster and faster and faster until it was right in your face, knocking you out of your body-- out of your mind-- and then had you plunging right into the depths of your racing heart.

A depth you never wanted to face. There was too much emotion for you to handle.

"You know.." He begins. You could feel your breath hitch, your eyes locking onto his gaze. Moriarty chuckles, he turns his face and looks you in the eyes as he continues,"..I can honestly say that you were the first person who told me that.." His voice was merely a whisper.

You could feel it all, the hammering of you heart, the tremble in your hands but none of that compared to the feeling of being absolutely paralyzed when you felt his rough fingers gliding across the side of your face, carefully cupping your cheek and entangling in your hair. Moriarty takes off your hat and places it gently on the table beside him before taking a step closer. "Say it. Say it again." He asks of you, running his thumb leisurely across your cheek.

You searched his eyes, looking for something. Something to indicate that your heart wouldn't be broken by the end of this--because Jim was acting incredibly out of character--

Your line of thought came crumbling down when he held your free hand and placed it over his chest. "Say it." Your mouth opens hesitantly, this being the beginning of a very essential sentence. _You breathe in_ , your pupils dilated, your pulse elevated--all signs of sentiment. _You breathe out,_ tightening your grip on his fingers and finally complying to his request when you say,"I'm in love with your brilliant mind."

For a second Moriarty does nothing but smirk. Your starstruck expression almost drops completely. Disappointment began to do you in, lulling you into a cold dark space but he pulls you flush against his body, rough and fierce and you're crashing back onto earth with so much relief. A small noise of surprise exits your mouth. Moriarty however, pays very little attention to this as he seemed rather occupied with grabbing you by the waist and clawing lightly at the back of your coat. You completely forget etiquette and damn all logic as you lose yourself in this fantasy. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you tilted your head in a more accessible angle. Both of you remain like that for a while; pulling and kissing and grinding--fully clothed but all tangled in a hot mess of emotions and body parts. You can feel the swell of your heart. "I love you," You mutter carelessly against his lips. You can feel all your walls and all the bright, picket fences of your mind--of your heart get torn down. "I love you." You say again, your mouth still connected to his as you began to shrug off your coat.

If it was insufferable for you to restrain your capabilities around idiots, it was a tortuous prison to restrain what you felt around him.

I love you, I love you, I love you-- you mutter over and over again. All the obsession, the want, the love and infatuation released in a plethora of kisses because dear, you really meant it, you really did and the pleasure, oh the pleasure of knowing that he somehow felt the same was _incredibly_ \--

You're cut off by a curt laugh.

A laugh that hadn't come from you this time..

But from him.

It grew from a chortle to a chuckle then to an all full out laugh. He pulls away from you, clutching his stomach as his eyes squeezed shut in amusement. Moriarty throws his head back guffawing as he held onto the nearby table, his twisted humor dragging him down to the floor.

Your heart shatters.

"Oh my.." He looks up with another laugh, wiping away a few stray tears as the sides of his eyes crinkle up in laughter. Your smile falters in confusion as you stare at him with a look of which explained that you weren't quite catching on.

But you did.

You weren't stupid, of course not.

You were just in deep, deep denial.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." Jim mocks your shoddy confession, his voice raised a pitch higher to serve as an effort to imitate you. He let out another string of laughter before speaking," 'I can honestly say that you were the first one who told me that' " He examines your broken facade and leans in with a grin, momentarily pressing the tip of your nose with his pointer finger. "You idiot." He suddenly slams his hand against the table, the loud noise bouncing off the walls as he repeats his previous sentence in an angry shout, "YOU IDIOT!" And just like that Moriarty's eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow in what seemed to be anger and disappointment. But he sees the fear in your face, the quick show of emotion and his smile slowly creeps it way back to his pale face and he laughs again.

You felt your eyes burn with the sensation of crying but you push the feeling away with a quiver of your lips and held your chin up in an attempt to reclaim your pride. Moriarty lets out a sound of pity. "Aww.." He places a palm on each side of your face and pulls your cheeks together with a chortle."I'm sorry,darling. I couldn't help it. It just got so boring..so..how do I say this?" He presses his hands harshly against your cheeks.You stifle a whimper. "..So ordinary! That's what you are, right? Ordinary?" He strains the last word, appearing somewhat frustrated with you. Moriarty releases his hold on you and wipes his hands across the front of his suit. "And me? So disappointed.." He shook his head, scoffing as he crossed his arms like a parent in the middle of giving a pep talk.

"And yes, while we could have 'done the dirty' right here on this desk.." He chuckles at the idea,"..you can't honestly expect me to contain my laughter for that long! How many times did you say 'I love you' when we were snogging again?" The man takes a step forward as you grit your teeth, eyes glassy and mouth quivering. "You proved to be smart but not really, not really.." He pauses, slicking back his hair.

 

 

_"You were just pathetic."_

 

 

Moriarty finishes off the sentence by placing your hat back onto the top of your head before circling his desk and situating himself on the black leather chair behind it, propping his feet on it's surface. You refuse to look at him. Moriarty kept his eyes trained on you as he pressed the button to the intercom."Guards please escort our little engineer out of here. I'm done with them." And as the doors opened you could do nothing but submit to the strong grip of the bodyguard who then began to pull you away. Jim swirls in his chair before pausing, holding up his hand. "Wait!" He calls and you pause in surprise, a small shimmer of hope flickering in your chest. The guard roughly turns you around by the shoulders. "There is one thing I can 'honestly say'.." Jim starts. Your hands balled into shaking fists, a mix of emotions poisoning your tongue, rendering it motionless. You let him speak..

"Only a fool can fall in love with someone like me."

He takes his time to watch you absorb what he had just said, a small grin slowly spreading across his face. He lets you out, feeling satisfied with his work.

While you on the other hand.

You were left with the anger and morose searing painfully into your heart the moment you entered your room. All the agony trying to leave you with a scar it hopes you would never forget. Indeed you wouldn't. Your breathing quickened. Your mind raced with thoughts and explanations. Explanations to this sick form of manipulation. It had hurt you, had slowly intoxicated your logic and clouded your foresight with feelings that you now began to abhor. However, much to your distaste, you couldn't bring yourself to despise Moriarty. There was something in you aside from that demented feeling of crazy.. It was an obsession, a small hunger for all of Moriarty's games and the pain he had to offer. It was unhealthy, unsustainable.

What was happening to you?

Your heart clawed at your chest with its rapid beating, frantically slicing the skin open as your nerves began to circuit out with all the nervous energy pumping in your veins. You recognize the feeling.

Panic.

You were panicking because you knew--you realized that you loved it, loved how he had just toyed and abused you, how he pressed his lips so harshly against yours. "No,no,no-- I will not be a plaything!" You reason, placing your head in between the palms of your hands as you desperately struggle for composure, for sanity.

But for the first time in your life, your emotions overruled your mind.

You shouted, scolded and fought against all the thoughts and all the whispers passing through your ears. You sinked down to your feet trying refuse.

But the minutes passed and nothing had changed. Poor you decided to give up, you were so overwhelmed and so scared, your body twitching rapidly with fear.

This was it.

This was the insanity taking it's share of control.

Why did it have to be so early? Why did that moment have to be now?

And like nothing had just happened you began to laugh and laugh and laugh until the tears that fell from your eyes were from humor and the sick sensation of surrender.

Oh, you didn't care anymore, didn't you? He could have his way with you and you wouldn't even give a damn. He can have you. As long as you belonged to him and him only you would be fine, perfectly fine. Perfectly.

And as you sat down on the cold floor, hugging your knees as laughter wracked your body you realized one very important thing.

 

Moriarty had murdered you.

 

Murdered your heart.

 

He had done it just the way it was supposed be: planned, precise and smart.

 

You weren't a lovesick puppy.

 

You were a victim.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
